The Chosen One (MattheoRiddle x Ophelia)

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ-14

As we gathered around the Quidditch pitch for the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and excitement. The stands were filled with eager spectators, all craning their necks for a glimpse of the action. The maze loomed before us, a tangle of greenery and mystery. I was seated between the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They were dressed in their signature Gryffindor robes and their playful banter and infectious energy were already adding to the already charged atmosphere.

As Fred began to collect the bets, I playfully slapped his hand, reminding him that the task had not yet begun. He returned my wink with a mischievous grin and we settled back to wait for the action to unfold. George, ever the prankster, leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I hear there's a dragon in the maze. You think one of those blokes will get roasted?" I rolled my eyes at him, "Oh, George, always with the jokes. I'm sure they'll be just fine."

Fred chimed in, "But what if they're not? You know, we could make a killing selling fireproof robes." I couldn't help but laugh at his entrepreneurial spirit. "I think you two are going to be just fine no matter what happens," I said, gesturing to the pile of gold coins they had amassed from their betting scheme.

As the task began, we watched in awe as the contestants navigated the maze, dodging obstacles and battling magical creatures. The twins were on the edge of their seats, shouting encouragement and cheering on Harry. I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for their loyalty and enthusiasm.

But suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by the familiar hissing sound, as if someone was calling me from afar. But this time the voice was too powerful for me to concentrate on the game. I immediately stood up, feeling a sense of urgency. "Is everything alright, Ophelia?" George asked, his tone laced with concern.

"I need a loo," I replied hurriedly, my tone indicating a sense of urgency. Without waiting for George's response, I  ran off towards the castle, my heart pounding in my chest. The voice was getting louder and louder, and I covered my ears with my hand, hoping to block it out. Suddenly, I bumped into someone, and I growled at them without even looking up. "Watch where you are going, idiot"

As I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Neville Longbottom standing in front of me, holding something in his hand. He looked startled, and I could tell he was afraid of me. I didn't care. The voice was still calling me, and I was desperate to get away. "I'm sorry," he stammered, but I brushed past him without another word.

As I continued down the hallway, the voice grew louder and more insistent. I felt like I was being pulled towards something, but I couldn't tell what. The surroundings were a blur as I ran past portraits and tapestries, my mind racing with fear and anticipation..

I stood there, bewildered and disoriented, as the voice suddenly ceased. My body trembled with fear and confusion, as I tried to grasp what was happening around me. But the world remained still and silent, as if I were a madwoman running amok in an unpopulated castle. Slowly, I turned around and began to make my way back to the crowd, when the sound of trumpets pierced the silence. A deafening roar shattered the stillness, and I broke into a run, heading towards the center of the pitch. As I drew closer, I saw Harry clutching the Triwizard Cup, his body wracked with sobs. "No, no, please, no," he cried out. My heart sank as I caught sight of Cedric's lifeless body, lying motionless on the ground.

The atmosphere was suffused with tension, as the crowd gathered around the scene of the tragedy. The sky was dark and foreboding, as if even the heavens were mourning the loss of a young life. The grass beneath my feet was slick with dew, as if the earth itself was weeping. The air was thick with the scent of fear and despair, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"I saw him, I saw him, it was Voldemort," Harry repeated, his voice choked with tears, "He killed Cedric."

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, as the full weight of what had happened hit me. The thoughts that had haunted me for weeks had become a crushing reality. The nightmare that had plagued my dreams was no longer just a figment of my imagination; it was a premonition of what was to come. The world around me seemed to stop spinning, as I stood there, dumbfounded and disoriented. My lips went dry, as I struggled to come to terms with the enormity of what had happened. I felt a crushing weight of guilt and remorse, as I realized that I could have saved Cedric if I had only given those thoughts the importance they deserved. The anger I felt towards myself was all-consuming, and I was truly broken in that moment.

After the horrific event, the students were requested to return to their dorms. The weight of the tragedy hung heavily in the air, and the students moved in silence, their faces etched with grief and disbelief. As I walked towards my dorm, I noticed Draco running towards me, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, holidays start tomorrow!" he exclaimed, his tone light and carefree. I was stunned by his insensitivity. How could he be so cavalier in the face of such a terrible loss? I was silent, lost in my own thoughts and consumed by my grief. Without responding to his nonsense, I turned and walked away.

As I made my way to my dorm, I felt a wave of emotions wash over me. Anger, sadness, and confusion all vied for dominance within me. How could anyone be so callous in the face of such a tragedy? It was as if Draco had no empathy for the pain and suffering that we were all experiencing. I couldn't help but wonder if he was capable of feeling anything at all.

I collapsed onto my bed, my mind racing with thoughts and questions that I knew would never be answered. The enormity of what had occurred that night was almost too much to bear. How could such a senseless act of violence happen in a place like Hogwarts, a place that was supposed to be safe and protected? What did it all mean? Was there some deeper significance to Cedric's death, some hidden message that we were all missing?

The memory of Cedric's lifeless body haunted me, and I knew that it would stay with me forever. The sight of him lying there, so still and silent, was seared into my mind. It was as if time had stopped in that moment, and the world had been plunged into darkness.

I tried to push the thoughts out of my head, to focus on something else, anything else. But it was like a poison that had seeped into my mind, corrupting my thoughts. I was angry, frustrated, and more than a little bit scared.